


Push Me Down

by HSavinien



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, Relationship Discussions, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 22:56:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HSavinien/pseuds/HSavinien
Summary: Fíli and Ori, just feeling their way around a relationship (and each other).





	Push Me Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecaptainhedgehog (lyzeebyrd)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyzeebyrd/gifts).



> Happy Holidays, lyzeebyrd!

Fíli's shoulders smacked into the bookshelves, and not in the way she'd been hoping for – i.e., because she was being kissed and-slash-or felt up. Instead, Ori was glaring at her from three feet away, fists planted on her hips.

“Not in the library and not while I'm working, you overeager nitwit!”

Fíli sighed deeply, but pushed off the shelf. “All right, if you insist.” She dropped a little peck on Ori's eyebrow, hands held up and clearly visible. “No touching. I'll just wait at the study tables for your break.”

Ori shook her head, scarf coming half-undone in the process and trailing green and purple fringe down her arm. “No, not here. Go work on that grant proposal you owe Balin. I'll meet you at the Acorn when I get off tonight.”

Fíli sighed. “All right. I'll have a meatball sandwich waiting for you at half six.”

“Thanks.” Ori swooped close and leaned up, dropping a kiss on Fíli's cheek. Then, with barely a backward glance, she disappeared into the stacks.

Fíli kicked a tattered spot in the carpet and trudged out of the library, nodding glumly at Óin behind the medical reference desk as she went.

* * *

Bilbo's restaurant was quiet as usual. The annual Yule Party was the only time it turned raucous, which was mostly the fault of Fíli's extended family and their friends and partners. Fíli had tucked herself into the corner booth so she could concentrate on the bits of the grant proposal that weren't easily-plugged-in numbers and demographics, and spent at least an hour trying to explain why they should fund computers for the local youth club's literacy program without resorting to “BECAUSE IT'S OBVIOUSLY THE RIGHT THING TO DO” before Kíli showed up to grab supper and make a nuisance of themselves. Because Kíli was a good sibling and also a horrible nosy parker, that turned the subject to Ori pretty quickly. Because Fíli was, she admitted freely, confused and lovesick, Kíli got more than they had probably bargained for.

“I just want to give her nice things,” Fíli said. “Like chocolates and orgasms.”

Kíli rolled their eyes. “Cute. You stole that from somewhere and also I _don't want to know_ about your sex life. ” Fíli's sibling was tearing one of Bilbo's best danishes to bite-size pieces, then eating them, trying to save their new mustache from crumbs and stickiness.

Fíli stirred her cocoa listlessly. “I don't understand what I should do. She's...”

“Here,” Kíli said, with hurtful amounts of relief. “Thank the bright maker.” They waved theatrically. “Ori! Come rescue me from this lovesick twit!”

Ori, standing in the doorway and unwrapping herself from cable-knit everything, turned pink all the way up to her eyebrows and hurried over.

“Shit, your sandwich!” Fíli jumped up and bolted for the counter.

Bilbo was already ringing it up, shaking his head at all of them. “As if I didn't know she'd be along about now. Frodo will have it out to you in a minute.”

Fíli sheepishly handed over some money and walked back to the table. “Hi. Sorry.”

“Hi,” Ori said. She fiddled with the fringe on her scarf. Fíli stared at her fingers, pale against the dark purple of the yarn and pictured dark purple against the curve of Ori's belly, her knee, her bicep.

Kíli looked at both of them critically. “Right, have fun, don't tell me anything about it, I'm going to the archery club to get away from all this free-floating mush.”

“Go on then, and don't be a pain.”

“It's my job; I'm your younger sibling. It's in the contract,” Kíli informed her. Then, dodging the smack Fíli aimed at their head, Kíli skipped out the door in a swirl of coat. “Mum will back me up!” they called over their shoulder. The door blew shut behind them. Fíli buried her head in her hands.

Luckily, young Frodo brought the sandwich over at that point, not quite tripping over the hem of his apron. Ori practically inhaled her food, except for the pickle, which she frowned at and handed off to Fíli.

Once the last bit of sauce and bread were gone, Ori sighed. “Okay, we ought to talk about how to make this work.”

Fíli froze. “What? What's wrong?”

Ori looked around, checking that both Bagginses were out of earshot behind the vine-carved wooden counter. “It's not that I don't like you or don't want to, to court you. I just have some boundaries that I need you to understand.” She looked up at Fíli, who nodded, trying to beam encouragement at her.

“I'm smaller than you,” she pointed out. “I don't, y'know, mind that. But it means it's a lot easier for you to push me around physically, or hold me down, and I _don't_ like that. Dori took care of us best he could, but we lived pretty rough when I was a kid, and Nori taught me to fight dirty, and I don't want to hurt you by accident. I'm not as good as Nori, but that mostly means I don't have as much control. And I'm stronger than most people realize.”

Fíli nodded. The bruise across her shoulders made that quite clear. “So, don't surprise you, don't push you around, don't restrain you. I can remember those rules. Is that all?”

“Not quite,” Ori's face sank into her scarf like a turtle hiding in its shell. “I don't like being handled roughly, but I'd like...I'd like to do it to you. If you don't mind.”

A wave of tingling warmth swept from Fíli's toes up to her scalp. “Yes, um, yes please.” She accidentally knocked her spoon off the table with one elbow, and dived down after it. When she emerged from under the table, Ori was grinning at her, eyes bright.

“Oh. Well, good.” Ori blushed again. “Want to take a walk?”

* * *

It was cold and clear and starry – the temperature had dropped in the past two days down to near freezing – and not many people were on the roads to disturb the quiet of the dark town. Streetlights cast pools of bluish light on the footprint-trodden snow. Ori stuck her arm through Fíli's, slowing her down a bit.

“Your place or mine?” Fíli asked.

“Ugh,” Ori groaned. “Yours, probably. You have a lock and don't live with anybody who picks locks for fun.”

* * *

Fíli had claimed eldest's rights to the basement when she reached her majority, and though the door to the back garden leaked cold air when the wind was wrong, it was worth it. She ushered Ori in, then went to the interior door and yelled, “I'm home!” up the stairs. She got an acknowledgment in Dwalin's low growl, then locked that door and shoved the draft excluder up against the garden door.

Ori was wandering around, poking at the shelves. “Dori would say I'm being rude right now,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I like seeing the things people collect.”

Fíli shrugged. “Poke around all you want.” The room wasn't too full; Kíli and their mum were the packrats of the family. The bookshelves held a mix of fiction and metalworking handbooks, with bits of ore and little trinkets from her family stuck in everywhere there was a gap. There were survey maps pinned up over her desk, a toolbox underneath it, and a pile of papers stacked haphazardly on top. She deposited her bag on the desk chair and kicked off her boots in the general direction of the doormat.

Before she could turn around, there were hands on her shoulders – shoving her toward the bed – then gone, taking her coat with them. “Oh.” She accepted the push, landed with her knees on the edge of the bed, and waited.

“Stay there, please,” Ori said from behind her. “And don't look.”

The air shifted as Ori moved around the room. There were soft rustlings that must be either Ori's bag or her clothes. Fíli shivered. The steps behind her were audible, but muffled. Ori must've taken off her shoes. Ori's hands caught her shoulders, then stroked up her neck to her hairline, buzzed short on the back and sides. She unwound Fíli's hair ties and combed her fingers through, loosing the long braids on top.

Fíli leaned into the petting, shoulders dropping in relaxation. “That feels nice.”

Ori hummed. “Good so far, then?”

“Yes,” Fíli agreed.

“All right.” Ori's hand tightened, buried in Fíli's hair near the scalp, pulling her head back slowly and very firmly. “Stay where you are,” she said.

Fíli made an embarrassing noise and tried to nod. It didn't work, of course, and Ori shook her gently. “Right, right...” she muttered.

“Now, Durin's heir,” Ori said thoughtfully. “Have you been diligent in your duties today?”  
  
“Mmhm,” Fíli managed. Ori's free hand trailed down her spine, light enough to make her squirm. The bed dipped beside her as Ori settled.

“Your grant proposal?”

“'s finished.”

“Balin will be pleased, then. Want me to look it over tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Fíli hummed. “Not a conflict of interest?”

“Bifur and Bofur have a lot sunk into the centre and I think the grant would be wonderful, but it's not like I'm legally attached to it myself. Nori's only a volunteer, not a paid employee.” Ori smacked Fíli's side gently. “And I'm convinced you're taking it seriously. Thanks.”

Ori pushed Fíli, who went over on the bed with a startled laugh. Fíli turned her head out of the pillow to breathe, interrupted by Ori pulling her jumper and flannel button-down off her, rearranging Fíli like a cooperative cushion as she went. There was some very encouraging groping going on, and Fíli was going to play however Ori wanted as long as it made her happy and felt this good.

“You sure you don't want help?” Fili asked, as Ori poked at her belt. Ori was already naked – lovely and soft and all over freckles, beaky nose wrinkled in concentration.

“Yes, all right, please take off your trousers, Fíli, they're in the way.”

Fili laughed, rolled onto her back, and skinned out of her trousers and pants in a few seconds flat. “Yes, pretty.”

Ori straddled her hips and leaned in for a kiss. “You're having fun still?”

“I-” Fíli mumbled into her mouth, “-most-” kiss, “-definitely-” nibble. “-am.”

“Good,” Ori breathed, and caught up Fíli's hands to press them into the pillows above her head. “Let's see how long you can stay still.”

Then she squirmed down between Fíli's legs, and Fíli didn't do much thinking from that point on. Ori didn't scold too much when one of Fíli's hands ended up clutched desperately (but very desperately not pushing) in her hair and the other one clamped over her mouth, trying to muffle herself so as not to wake the household.

After all, it meant that Ori was doing _really_ well.

 


End file.
